


My Name is Death, and the End is Here

by t_a_f_k_a_r



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: FAHC, Fallen Angel!Ryan, Immortal Fake AH Crew, temporary deaths of immortal characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:54:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_a_f_k_a_r/pseuds/t_a_f_k_a_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No longer would he simply wait for the Non-existence of creatures to pass, he would ensure it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Name is Death, and the End is Here

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I wrote this ages ago, and I don't actually know what the hell it is. I remember I had a whole plan to go somewhere with it, but I can't remember where that somewhere was... so... yeah. Whatever. 
> 
> Title and below lyrics from Oh Death by Jen Titus.
> 
> The poem Ray starts quoting near the end is 'Because I could not stop for Death' by Emily Dickinson.

_When God is gone and the devil takes hold_  
_Who will have mercy on your soul?_

* * *

So the story starts like this, once upon a time there was Existence and there was Non-existence, and between them the transition between the two, at the time It didn’t have a name. It was just something that both was and was not. A new being came into Existence and Non-existence, and this new being was immensely powerful, capable of manipulating Existence and Non-existence as It could, but where It favoured Non-existence, this new being favoured Existence.

This new being was Creation, the great Creator, the One. They took It, the idea behind It, the energy, and they wrapped It up in a body and they named It Azrael. The two of them continued to be and not be in the great divide between Existence and Non-existence. But Creation desired more. Where Azrael was content to simply wait out the time until Existence became Non-existence, Creation was not.

Creation started small, creating great balls of light in the Divide, which eliminated the darkness that had once held sway. That darkness suddenly became both Existent and Non-existent like Creation and Azrael, and Azrael took it upon himself. From his empty sockets now stared the dark of space, and Azrael was content.

Yet, Creation still wanted more. Great balls of rock were created in the Divide, and upon them new substances were created. New forces. New types of energy. And Azrael could feel them, their beginning and their inevitable end, and he was content.

But still, Creation wanted more. Creation formed beings on these rocks, little creatures that did not inhabit the Divide like Creation and Azrael did. These creatures that existed within the Divide, but were not a part of it. These beings of Existence, and potential Non-Existence. Still, Azrael was content.

Creation wanted more. He created creatures akin to himself, shrouded them in forms similar to that which he did Azrael, but while they were beings of Existence and Non-existence, they favoured Existence. To these new beings, Creation tasked the guardianship of the strange ones. The ones who exist, but do not inhabit the Divide like Creation and Azrael do. Still, Azrael was content.

Creation took his leave, journeying to parts of the Divide Azrael cared not to explore. Content to wait for them to call him. Instead, he stayed near these strange creatures. Their potential for Non-existence an inevitability, and one that arrived faster than Azrael had ever seen. For a while, he was content. Swallowing up their energy when it was their time. But eventually, he’d have to return it. These strange creatures, they kept their Existence even when their time had passed.

Memory, Azrael learns from the Guardians. These strange creatures continue to Exist so long as others ‘remember’ them. In this way they were Existent and Non-existent, and their place was in the Divide. It became evident that these strange creatures would need somewhere to go when their time came. In answer to this requirement, the Guardians created three more plains of Existence and Non-existence, and each was allocated a specific task. Hell, for those who used their Existence for their own gain at the cost of others. Heaven, for those who used their Existence for the benefit of all. And Purgatory, for those whose names were not recorded by the stranger creatures, but whose actions and teachings were remembered. Azrael was content.

Things in the Divide were peaceful and perfect for a great many years, until a rift began to form between the Guardians. Some of them had begun to understand that with the Strangeness of the Creatures came also a disregard for other forms of life. Their spinning ball of rock in the Divide to name just one.

As a result of the fighting, a form began to emerge from within Azrael himself. Energy created by the Darkness Azrael had placed within his eyes.

“I am War.” Said this new being, and Azrael claimed him as kin, for War, like Azrael, favoured Non-Existence over Existence, while being a product of both.

The fighting between the Guardians did not cease, Azrael could see its time of Non-existence, and it was very far into the future. He was content to wait.

The fighting escalated and escalated until the Guardians themselves split into fractions. Many of their number ‘falling’ and turning to reside over Hell. Others retreating to reside over Heaven. And those not willing to pick a side left to preside over Purgatory and the spinning ball of rock.

Unwittingly, Azrael allowed War to draw him into the fighting, forcing him to choose the side of the Guardians of Heaven. As retribution for this act, Azrael was cast down, and from him a new being formed. This new being went by Death, and Azrael was left to his own devices upon the spinning ball of rock. His powers intact, but no longer was he content with waiting. His masters cast upon him a cruel fate. No longer would he simply wait for the Non-existence of creatures to pass, he would ensure it.

* * *

Azrael isn’t quite sure what draws him to the Fake AH Crew only that once he comes into proximity with them, he can’t pull away. They’re a small time crew when he first encounters them. And for months he watches them from the side lines, intrigued with their ferocity and their teamwork, which at times is lacking, to be quite fair. The first time one of them dies, he feels it. He’s on the other side of the city, enjoying a murder break in a quaint little tea shop, when he feels the tingling in his shoulders.

It’s Geoff.

The Crew has just graduated from small time heists to bank robberies, and they aren’t as prepared as they thought. A bullet through the heart, and Geoff is gone.

Azrael appears there as soon as he is able, in time to see Death descending upon the body.

“He is mine.” Azrael growls, pulling Death away. “You will not touch him.”

“His time is passed.”

“His time passes when I say it does.” Azrael retorts. “And I say it continues.”

“His times is passed!” Death returns, glaring. “This is no longer your job, Azrael.”

“It is always my job. His time continues.” Azrael states, and to prove his point, he appears at Geoff’s side, and lightly touches Geoff’s forehead. The human gasps to life, the hole in his chest sealing over. “He is mine.”

“You cannot protect him forever.” Death replies, Azrael laughs.

“I have been and have not been since long before you were even a thought. I will continue to be and not be long after you have ceased existence. If there is anything I have in abundance, Death, it is forever.” Death growls but vanishes from the playing field, and Azrael slinks back into the shadows.

A few weeks later, the names James Ryan Haywood, Vagabond, and the Mad King start cropping up all over the city, and before the Fake AH Crew knows what’s hit them, they’ve got a new member of the Crew. 

* * *

It’s strange for Azrael, being Ryan. He’s never had to pretend to be human before, and now he has to pretend on an almost daily basis. Staring in the mirror is what gets him most of the time, this human face that does not belong to him, but does. He paints his face red, black, and white in as close approximation to his true face as he can manage, and when he journeys forth from the Fake AH Apartment building, he wears a mask as homage to the human’s belief of how Death should look. Azrael’s colour has always been white, but he will adopt black if that is what the humans expect of him.

“What’s with the fucking face paint, dude?” Michael asks one evening a few weeks after Azrael joins the crew. They’re all siting in the living room watching themselves on TV.

“I like it.” Azrael answers, smiling. Michael shudders.

“It gives me the fucking creeps, dude. Like, what are you even? The angel of fucking death, man?” Azrael frowns for just a moment, concerned Michael has figured him out so quickly, but he realizes it’s just a ‘figure of speech’.

“You could say that, I guess. My body count is higher than all of yours put together.”

“I still don’t fucking believe that!” Ray pipes up, slapping at Gavin’s hands, only for the Brit to make strange, warbling noises and pull his hands away, as they play some game Azrael has yet to understand.

“Oh?”

“It’s not on record or anything.” Ray replies smirking when Gavin slaps at his hands and misses.

“You’re working under the assumption that my birth name is James Ryan Haywood.” Azrael answers, frowning as he watches Ray and Gavin swap rolls once again.

“That’s a good point. I didn’t actually think of that.” Ray admits, cheering as he slaps Gavin’s hand, the Brit yowling.

“What are you playing?” Azrael finally asks, thoroughly intrigued.

“Slaps.” He answers, once more slapping Gavin’s hand.

“Aww, X-ray, I wasn’t ready!”

“Always be prepared, Vav!”

Azrael watches the pair of them play their game in silence, enthralled while the other three members of the crew discuss their most recent heist.

 _This is my life now._ Azrael thinks, smiling at the human vernacular. _I could get used to this._

* * *

Azrael hasn’t even been with the Crew a full six months yet when someone finds out his secret. It is Gavin, surprisingly, who figures out that Azrael isn’t exactly who he says he is, or exactly _what_ he says he is. It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise as it does, Gavin has a knack for popping up at opportune moments to spot things people don’t want him to see. And he’s smarter than he lets people know. If only he had the people skills to bring this across subtly.

“What the hell are you, Ryan?” is his lead in, and Azrael is startled speechless by the suddenness of the question, as the two of them wait out in a safe house after a heist gone wrong.

“What?”

“What the hell are you?”

“Gavin, I know getting your point across normally isn’t a strong suit of yours bu-“

“You’re not human.”

“Are any of us human?” Azrael asks, trying not to fret. “Humans die. We don’t.”

“Yeah, but that’s just it. You don’t die.”

“What?”

“You don’t. You fall and you go still for a while, sure. But I’ve been with you when you’ve gone down before, Ryan. And you never stop breathing.”

“I- really?” Azrael is intrigued by this. He’d had to manipulate his own being in order for him to appear to be injured or dying when under fire, and up until now, he’s been certain he’d gotten it perfect.

“What are you?”

“I-“

“You don’t have to tell me, I guess.” The lad says with a little sigh. “But curiosity killed the cat, you know? And unlike that damn cat, I’ve got more than nine lives...” and Azrael understands very clearly, he can choose not to tell the Brit, but the Brit won’t let it go. He sighs heavily and rolls his eyes.

“How good are you with keeping secrets?”

“I’m the best!”

“Mhm.”

“I am.”

“Fine.” Azrael reaches forward, grabs hold of Gavin’s arm and before the lad can comment, the both of them are miles away, floating in the air inside their safe house in the boondocks, watching Geoff and Jack argue about something or another. From the sounds of it, it’s about who exactly is responsible for the flaming wreck that is Geoff’s car out in the driveway.

“What?” Gavin exclaims, eyes wide as he flails about and latches on to Azrael, who has absolutely no intentions of releasing him. “Geoff!” Gavin yells, the leader of the Fake AH Crew makes no sign that he’s heard the lad.

“They can’t hear us, or see us, Gavin.” Azrael tells him, pulling them away to observe Geoff’s car. He sighs and shakes his head. “Let’s hope the others are doing better than these two.” He says, rolling his eyes. Before Gavin can voice the questions racing through his head, they’ve vanished, to appear on the second floor of their safe house on the beach, where Ray, Michael, and Lindsay are in the middle of a game of Risk. “Huh.”

“What _are_ you?” Gavin asks, his voice shaking. “Ryan?”

“You’re a smart lad, Gavin, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’ll give you a hint.” Azrael says, grinning as he takes them back to their own safe house, this one in the middle of the city, and honestly the nicest of their safe houses, if Azrael is being honest. “My true name is Azrael.”

“Nope.” Gavin answers almost immediately, eyes wide. “No bloody way! You’re not a fucking angel!” Azrael pouts.

“That was meant to be more satisfying. You were meant to go away and research for hours and come back to me tomorrow like ‘I know what you are!’ and we could have a-“ shudder “Twilight moment.”

“Oh God, don’t even go there.” Gavin says, shuddering. “You’re a fucking angel, though?” he exclaims, getting them back on track.

“A Fallen Angel, yes.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“Gavin! Have you already forgotten the impromptu little field trip we just took?”

“... a fucking angel, though!”

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you swear since I joined the Crew.”

“Actually, that’s a good point.”

“What?”

“Why’d you join the Crew?”

“To keep your dumb fucking asses from dying.” Azrael admits, and Gavin’s eyes go wide once again.

“You.”

“Me?”

“You’re the reason we can’t die”

“Yes, well done, Gavin. The Angel of Death is the reason his Crew mates can’t die. Shocker.”

“But you weren’t with us when Geoff died the first time, you joined the Crew a few weeks later.”

“Funny, that.” Azrael comments, settling himself down on the couch with a good book.

“But that means you were keeping tabs on us.”

“It’s really, really not that hard to do, Gavin.”

“Guess not.” Gavin agrees, sighing. “So, are you going to tell the others?”

“In time.” Azrael answers, shrugging his shoulders. “Just doesn’t feel right at the moment.”

“I guess I can accept that.” Gavin replies, going to flop down onto the couch beside Azrael. “So when you ‘die’, what happens to you?”

“Nothing, really. Humans cannot harm me, even if they tried, and as you know, they have. I have manipulated my physical form to simulate injury and death, however, as you’ve pointed out, I missed a few things. When I ‘die’ I just get the fun task of playing Dead Fish.”

“Huh.”

“Why? What happens with you lot?”

“Nothing. That I remember anyway. There’s just darkness.” Gavin admits, catching the longing that appears on Azrael’s face. “The darkness means something to you?” Azrael sighs, closing the book and turning away from Gavin to place the book on the small table beside the couch. When he turns back, his true face is revealed. Ryan’s blue irises within white sclera replaced by Azrael’s endless darkness. Gavin yelps as suddenly it seems like the void of space is staring right through him.

“Once, a very, very long time ago. Before Earth existed, before Creation, er, before God began. There was no light. There was Existence, there was Non-existence, there was It, and there was Darkness. The Darkness formed the Great Divide between Existence and Non-existence. Out of that Darkness, Creation was formed. He named It Azrael, gave Azrael form. And then, Creation called for light, and so there was light. I took the Darkness into myself, for it too favoured Non-existence. Things began to spiral out of control.”

“Oh.” Gavin murmurs when Azrael falls quiet, staring at the floor. “You wish things could be like they were. Before Creation.” Azrael sighs.

“I was content. I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t sad. I was content. Content to wait. Content to let Creation do as he would. Content to watch from the side-lines until called. I was content. And now…”

“What happened?”

“There was a war. I allowed myself to be coerced into choosing sides. And I was cast down.” Azrael shrugs, a shift seeming to come over him as he sits up straight. “Gavin, I know we’re supposed to be laying low. But my Murder Break just ended.”

“Dude, you’ve been on Murder Break for all of five hours!”

“C’mon!”

“Fine. But you’re explaining this shit to Geoff if we get caught!”

* * *

Gavin is surprisingly good with keeping secrets, and is even better at being supportive about them. Sometimes Azrael gets into moods where he won’t want to leave the Apartment for anything short of it being on fire, or one of the Crew being on fire. And other times he gets into moods where he can’t be anywhere near the Apartment, for anything short of it being on fire, or one of the Crew is on fire there. And sometimes Azrael just gets into moods where he just wants to destroy everything. It takes Gavin a little while, but eventually the Brit figures out ways to help the Angel watching over his shoulder.

“Geoffrey, we gotta play a game!”

“A game, Gavers?” Geoff asks, playing an intense game of Peggle on the big screen in their living room. “You know you’re always welcome to Peggle.”

“Not a video game, Geoff.” Gavin says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go play in traffic or something!”

“Oooohh.” Geoff exclaims. “We can fucking try out a Things to Do.” Gavin starts laughing, shaking his head.

“Yeah, sure.” There’s an entire wall in their apartment that is just whiteboard, and scribbled across a good portion of it is ‘Things to Do!!’ with a list of idiotic things the Crew has yet to try out, experimenting with just how immortal they are. Azrael and Gavin have discussed it at length, and Azrael had eventually admitted that as long as he’s around to bring them all back to life, they can live forever. But neither of them tells the others this.

“Why the urge for a game, Gavers?” Geoff asks, as he fires off texts to the rest of the Crew.

“Ryan wants off his Murder Break.”

“Ooohhh.”

“Yeah, c’mon, let’s go mess shit up.” Gavin says, heading down the hallway to drag the Angel of Death out of his hidey hole.

* * *

When things don’t need to be blown up, for instance when Azrael’s hiding away from them, whether in the Apartment or away from it. Gavin’s got the perfect solutions.

“Okay, so Rye-bread. Try not setting me alight this time, alright?” Gavin asks, as they fire flares at nothing in particular as they speed through the streets of Los Santos.

“You’re the idiot who ran in front of my flare!” Azrael protests, Gavin scowls.

“I did not.”

“You did fucking so.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen!”

“Goddammit!”

“Also, if you could refrain from setting fire to our apartment again, that’d be nice.”

“Oh, when did it become your apartment, too?” Azrael teases, Gavin snorts.

“About the time I discovered one of my best bois was the fucking Angel of Death!”

“So, your reaction is to stalk me? Gavin I’m flattered, but-“

“You know me, Rye-bread. You’re Curiosity, and I’m the cat. You don’t want to be at the Apartment, I join you at _the_ apartment. ”

“Ahuh. You haven’t told the others about the apartment, have you?”

“Nah! They think we’re banging.”

“… of course they do.” Azrael answers after a brief silence. Gavin starts giggling. Azrael simply sighs.

* * *

“Gavin, your boyfriend is fucking sulking again!” Ray yells down the hallway, Gavin rolls his eyes.

“Have no fear, X-ray. Vav is on the case!” he answers dutifully, making his way down the hallway and slipping into Azrael’s room, unannounced.

“Hi.” Azrael says, staring at him from the nest of blankets upon the bed.

“Hello” Gavin answers, running across the room to dive bomb onto the bed. Azrael scowls at him while Gavin giggles. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. It looked soft.” He says, smiling sheepishly. ”What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just don’t wanna do anything.”

“Yeah, I know the feel.” They sit in silence for a while, Azrael content to stare at the ceiling, while Gavin is content to play on his phone. “You know, you can wear your real face when the other guys aren’t around, Rye-bread.” Gavin admits, breaking their silence.

“I didn’t think you liked my real face.”

“Nah, it’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just startling when you don’t expect it, yeah?”

“Makes sense.” When Gavin looks up to look at Azrael again, the fallen angel’s true face is showing. He smiles and shuffles up to get a closer look.

“It’s so strange.”

“What?”

“That’s space.” Gavin says, voice low and awed. “That is _space,_ Az! And it’s staring out at me. It’s your eyes! It’s so strange!” Azrael starts laughing, shaking his head.

“ _Sppppaaaacccceee.”_ Gavin bursts out giggling.

“Space!”

“You guys are fucking weirdos!” Ray yells through the wall, his bedroom being the lucky one on the opposite side of the wall.

“Space, X-ray!”

“Fucking kill me.”

* * *

It is Ray who finds out about Azrael next, just as Ryan is reaching his one year anniversary with the Crew. It’s the night just after they’ve fled back to their Apartment after a drive by shooting on them by a rival gang that left Michael and Lindsay dead, and Jack bleeding out in the back of their car. They’re all a little shaken up, Michael, Lindsay, and Jack a little more so than the others, those three shaking off the After Death jitters. But Ray’s going through the motions, trying to settle himself down enough to sleep on a night where they, very briefly, lost some of their own. And one of those motions is to check on everyone. Make sure they’re all in their allocated rooms, or elsewhere in the Apartment, alive and well. And Ryan isn’t.

Ray checks Ryan’s room last, aware the Gent sometimes likes to spend time at his own apartment, but normally not on nights where one of them has died. Ray doesn’t expect him to be gone. Ray frowns at the empty room, before turning to go and explore the rest of the apartment. Ryan’s not in the pool, their impromptu shooting range, their gym, the kitchen, entertainment room, living room, dining room, or any of the other bedrooms. And Ray’s a little freaked out about this.

He goes back to Ryan’s room and sits down on the bed, pulls out his phone, and is about to text ‘where are you?’ to the Gent when the man _appears_ right in front of him. Ray’s eyes go wide and his breath catches for a second.

“What the fuck?” he exclaims, and Ryan turns to him instantly, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Ray. What are you-?”

“I was coming to check on you, you fucking loser! What the hell? What the fuck?”

“I… can explain.”

“You fucking better be able to explain. What the hell?”

“Uhm. Do-do you believe in angels?” Ryan asks, Ray sighs heavily, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ, dude. If you fucking-“ Ray growls softly before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes, looking at Ryan. “Fine. Yes, I believe in angels. Please don’t tell me you’re an angel.”

“Okay.” Ryan says, looking down at the floor like a scolded child.

“Fuck.”

“I’m… fallen, if that… sweetens the pot a little?”

“You-you are the- I don’t even have words. I don’t.” Ray shakes his head, somehow it is easy to believe Ryan, even though he knows it shouldn’t be. Somehow, Ryan being a fallen angel just makes _sense,_ and that fact probably makes the least sense of anything. “Your sphere?”

“You can’t guess?” Ryan asks, surprised. Ray frowns, thinking about Ryan’s personality, and his time with the Crew, and when realization hits, he scrambles away a little.

“Death? Are you serious right now, Ryan?! Fucking Death?!”

“Uhm. Technically Death is his own thing now. But yes, I _was_ the Angel of Death.”

“Christ.

“Not quite.” Ray glares in response to Ryan’s comment, and Ryan smiles sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Do any of the others know?” Ray asks, watching Ryan closely. The angel hesitates, before sighing.

“Just Gavin.”

“Gavin fucking knowns?”

“He figured it out.” Ryan answers, shrugging his shoulders. “I was kind of surprised. But Gavin always finds out things he probably shouldn’t.”

“True.” Ray agrees, begrudgingly. “So, this why you and Gav play secret squirrel sometimes?”

“Yes.”

“Not gonna lie. I, uh, I thought you guys were banging.”

“Yes.” Ryan answers, smiling. “Gavin told me.”

“Oh, good. I guess you two aren’t banging then, huh?” Ryan laughs, shaking his head.

“Not quite, no. Gavin’s moved himself into my apartment, though.”

“Yeah, he does that.” Ray answers, smiling. There’s an almost companionable silence that falls between them before Ryan sighs.

“So, what happens now?”

“Well, I’m going to get some shut eye.” Ray says, lying back on Ryan’s bed and snuggling into the blankets.

“You have your own bed for that, Ray.”

“Some people are trying to sleep here, Ryan.” Ray mumbles, rolling over so he’s almost flush against the wall. He smiles when he hears Ryan huff and he listens to the rustling of clothing as Ryan changes for bed.

“If you steal the blankets, I swear I’ll kill you myself.” Ryan grumbles, climbing into bed beside Ray.

“Whatever.” Ray tells him, tugging at the blankets, laughing when Ryan growls at him. “Goodnight, Rye-bread.”

“Goodnight, Ray.” Ryan replies, Ray hums contently and closes his eyes.

They lie in the darkness in silence for a little while, Ray slowly falling asleep before he realizes something important. “Rye?” he asks, his voice slurred with tiredness.

“Yes?”

“What’s your name?” he asks, and Ryan takes so long answering that Ray thinks he won’t.

“Azrael.”

“Fuck that.” Ray grumbles. “R & R Connection for life!” Ryan starts laughing softly.

“Go to sleep, Ray.”

“Fucking angel of death over here. Gonna put my lights out, Ryan?”

“Ray.”

“Alright, alright.” Ray mumbles into his pillow. “G’night, Rae.” He whispers, smiling.

“Does that make me ‘Rae-X’?” Ryan asks, grinning.  Ray snorts, shaking his head.

“Fuck off. Be the Anti-Rae.”

“Anti-Rae? It seems easier to just go by Azrael.”

“Ryan is still better.”

“You think?”

“R & R Connection.”

“Hmm.”

“Goodnight, Anti-Rae.”

“Goodnight, X-Ray.”

“We’re such fucking losers.”

“Go to sleep. Oh my God.”

“I’m going!! Ryan the fucking impatient guy.”

“Ray!!”

“Fine!!”

* * *

Ray wakes up the next morning draped across Ryan, the pair of them cocooned in the blankets, he snorts and tries to free himself, unsuccessfully. So he sighs and rests his head back atop Ryan’s chest and passes the time watching the angel sleep, and huh. This is the first time he’s ever actually _seen_ Ryan sleep.

“Is there something on my face?” Ryan’s voice startles Ray and he yells, before whacking the angel hard.

“Give a guy a little warning.”

“Right. Give the guy watching you sleep a bit of warning before you reveal that you’re now awake?”

“Well. When you put it that way, it just sounds stupid.”

“Mhm. Why were you watching me sleep anyway?” Ryan asks, as the pair of them attempt to work themselves free of their chrysalis.

“I’ve never seen you sleep before. To be honest, we didn’t think you did sleep.”

“I never used to.” Ryan admits, shrugging. “I never needed to sleep but then I joined the Crew, and I don’t know, sometimes I’m just so tired.”

“That doesn’t worry you at all?” Ray asks, as they finally free themselves from the blankets and Ray rolls against the wall, sighing contently as the cool surface touches his skin. Ryan is silent beside him, and after a few moments, Ray rolls over to see the angel staring into the middle distance, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I never thought about it before.” Ryan admits, voice sounding quiet. “Angels don’t need sleep.” His eyes move to Ray. Ray almost recoils from the terror he sees within them. “Angels don’t need to eat, or drink, or anything. But I- there’s something wrong with me.” Ryan admits, burying his head in his hands. “God, why didn’t I realize sooner?”

“Hey, whatever it is, man, we can figure it out.”

“You don’t understand.” Ryan says, shaking his head, his voice muffled. “I’m one of the very oldest things that ever is, was, and ever will be. Eating, drinking, sleeping, and general care of your own self. These are actions undertaken by things that die. Things that know they will die. Angels can’t starve, they can’t dehydrate, and they can’t die from exhaustion. They don’t need to do any basic care, because it can’t harm them not to, and they get no benefit from doing it. Ray, I _am_ Death.”

“So?” Ray asks, frowning.

“So, my body needs sleep, it needs food, it needs water now. It never used to.” Ryan raises his head slowly to look at Ray, and Ray feels his stomach flip uneasily at the haunted look on Ryan’s face. “I’m becoming mortal.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Then fuck it. You’re becoming mortal. So what, we’ll run with that like we run with everything. It’s not so bad, you know? And Gav and I are here to be your guides to mortality. So fuck it, Ryan. Just try not to die.”

“But-“

“No buts, dude. Now, I best be slipping out of here before they start trying to make Gavin punch me for ‘defiling his boyfriend’. Don’t do anything dumb, dude.” Ray says, crawling over Ryan and getting to his feet.

“But-“

“Ah!” Ray says, pointing a stern finger at the angel, who sighs.

“Fine!”

“Good.” Ray grins, and saunters to the door. “Gonna get my pride stride on.”

“You want Gavin to punch you in the face just for funsies, or?” Ryan asks, his smirk evident in his voice. 

“Good point. I’ll allow it.” Ray answers, before slipping out the door, and bumping straight into Geoff.

“Nah, I don’t want to know.” Geoff says, shaking his head and walking around Ray.

“Don’t want to know wha-?“

“I don’t want to know!! I didn’t see you. You didn’t see me. None of this happened!” Geoff tells him, and Ray considers not letting the matter drop just to see if Geoff will put his hands over his ears and yell ‘Lalalala’ as he runs away like a child. But in the end he shrugs and walks down the hall to his own bedroom. Best to let the matter rest.

* * *

Becoming mortal is fucked up and strange. Azrael’s bones start to crack and ache as they shift. Their natural form changing to reflect the human visage Azrael wears as Ryan. What pains him the most is how he can no longer reveal his true face. Stuck in this human body, this limiting human form. For the time being, he retains his ability to fly, but he can feel the feathers of his wings falling out, and can feel the way the wings themselves sometimes feel like they’re just going to break away completely. Soon he’ll be mortal and grounded. And he doesn’t know what that means for the rest of the Crew. For their immortality.

* * *

It is a fledgling new year when Azrael’s wings finally go. They don’t crack or snap or break the way Azrael expected them to. They simply crumble. Turn to ash and fall away, and leave him a mess to clean up. The progression from Azrael to Ryan is simply normal then, for what is an angel without wings? Even Fallen can still fly.

Once upon a time an angel, once upon a time a fallen angel.

Azrael is no more. There is only Ryan now.

* * *

The first time he takes a bullet as a human is an experience. It gets him through the leg and he isn’t prepared for the burning agony that shoots through him. He screams and falls to the ground, his hands letting go of his gun as he moves them to hover over the bullet wound, they’re shaking.

He has never felt anything like this before.

“What the fuck did they do? Dip their bullets in acid or something?” he can hear Michael yelling through his pain.

“Fuck off, Michael, you try taking a bullet to the leg!” Ray retorts, nearby, and Ryan realizes they’re covering him.

“I took a bullet to the knee last fucking week, dude!”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Get him on his fucking feet. This heist is over.”

He doesn’t die. He just wishes he had.

* * *

The first time he dies, it’s something else. Since his first fall, he has always been a vicious bastard. Killing people for sport, for the thrill. For the fact that he just could not be content to wait for them to die. But humans, it seems, can be just as vicious as him, if not more so.

Having your throat cut isn’t what movies and games make it out to be sometimes. It’s not quick and it’s not painless. And Ryan really, really should have known that. He’s had to sit around waiting for people to die from having their throat slit enough times to know that it isn’t a party. Yet, he expects it to be different when it happens for him, and he doesn’t know why.

Lying on the floor of some dirty old warehouse, Gavin’s hands pressing down on his throat as he writhes, eyes wide and full of fear. Horrible gurgling sounds coming from his throat as the blood gushes out between Gavin’s shaking fingers.

“Rye. Rye-bread. Stay with me. C’mon, stay with me.”

“Let him go, Gav. Put a bullet in his brain. He’ll just come back.” Geoff says, somewhere out of Ryan’s view.

“You don’t know that!!” Gavin yells, tears in his eyes. “You can’t fucking know that, Geoff!”

The sound of their yelling fades out as Ryan senses a new presence, and his eyes roam around, searching for it.

“You’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament, Azrael.” Ryan tries to speak, but all that happens is the gurgling gets louder, and Gavin yells at him to stay quiet, to save his energy. “I told you that you couldn’t protect them forever.” Death says, before sighing heavily and coming to sit on the ground beside Ryan, opposite to Gavin. “But, you aren’t allowed to die. It voids your punishment. And I’m not completely heartless.” Death tells him, reaching forward to stroke Ryan’s hair out of his face. “I’ll grant you and your Crew immortality. But it’s only your Crew, no one else. Anyone who joins your Crew in the next three years will have the gift extended to them as well. But after that, no more. It’s messing up the balance. But I need you here.” Death smiles, and Ryan realizes for the first time how truly creepy Death can be. “Enjoy your immortality, Ryan.” Death says, reaching a boney hand forward to rest over Ryan’s heart. A soft glow envelopes Ryan, and his body tingles as he falls into darkness.

* * *

“Rye. Rye-bread. Stay with me. C’mon, stay with me.” Gavin’s hands are shaking, he doesn’t think they’ve ever shaken this badly in his life. Ryan’s bleeding out beneath his fingers, and he can’t do anything, and he’d hoped and prayed that this wouldn’t ever happen. But he’d known it was a possibility since Ryan admitted he was becoming mortal. Gavin hadn’t wanted to believe it could happen.

“Let him go, Gav. Put a bullet in his brain. He’ll just come back.”

“You don’t know that!! You can’t fucking know that, Geoff!” Gavin yells, and it’s not Geoff’s fault. It’s not Geoff’s fault he doesn’t know that Ryan is Azrael, and Azrael is a fallen angel. It’s not Geoff’s fault he doesn’t know the only reason they all kept coming back from the dead was because Ryan said no. It’s not Geoff’s fault, but Gavin doesn’t care about that right now, because Ryan is bleeding out beneath his fingers and he has no way of knowing if this’ll be the end.

“He’s done it before, dude!”

“No, he fucking hasn’t.”

“Gavin! It’s fucking cruel to let him suffer! Fucking put him out of his misery!” beneath him, Ryan tries to talk, only resulting in the blood spurting a little faster, and the gurgling to get a little louder.

“Shut up, Ryan! Save your damn energy, you bastard!”

“Gavin! If you don’t fucking shoot him, I will!”

“Fuck off, Geoff! You don’t understand!”

“I’m going to have to agree with Gavin on this one, Geoff.” Ray puts in, coming to stand between them. “We don’t know what’s going to happen if Ryan dies.”

“He’s _going_ to fucking die! He’s fucking bleeding out!”

“We don-“ whatever else is going to be said, they’ll never know, as in that moment, they all start to glow, and suddenly there’s a man sitting beside Ryan, all dressed up in a nice black suit, with his hand pressed over Ryan’s heart.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” Gavin exclaims, trying to ignore how very still Ryan has gone beneath his fingers.

“I’d think it would be obvious. Given how dear Azrael has just passed on.”

“You’re him aren’t you? Death?” Gavin asks, the man smiling, it looks creepy as fuck on his thin face.

“Got it in one, lad.”

“What the fuck is going on here?!” Geoff exclaims, voice cracking.

“We’re having a nice conversation with Death.” Ray deadpans. “Because I could not stop for Death he kindly stopped for me.“

“Okay. That’s enough of that.” Death says, quickly cutting Ray off. “I’m simply delivering a message.”

“Alrighty. Lay it on us.” Geoff says, frowning at the man.

“Immortality. It’s yours. All of yours, including Azrael. Because I really don’t have the time to keep coming back to this shithole of a city every time one of you gets yourselves killed.”

“We already have immortality.” Geoff retorts, Death rolling his eyes.

“No, you had the fallen angel of death. But he’s not an angel anymore, even a fallen one. And I’m getting sentimental, but I truly don’t want to see all his effort in trying to keep you lot alive go to waste. So, immortality all around. Use it wisely.” Death tells them, before simply fading away.

“I don’t even know what ju-“ Geoff starts to say before he’s interrupted.

“Our carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality.”

“Fucking Christ, Ray!” Gavin yells, face palming, before looking disgusted at the blood now all over his face.

“What?!” Ray exclaims, a smirk on his face.

“You’ll fucking wake the dead with this racket!” a very welcome voice cuts in, and Gavin squeals.

“RYAN!!!” he yells, throwing himself at the gent, and succeeding in getting even more blood over himself.

“What’d I miss?”

“Death’s a fucking creep!”

“Haha, yeah.”

“We’re totally fucking discussing this whole ‘fallen angel’ bullshit in your next performance review, Ryan.”

“We don’t fucking have performance reviews, Geoff!”

“Yeah, well, it might be fucking time to start!! Fucking wait till the others hear about this.”

“Geoff.”

“I’m going to call them right now.”

“Geoff! Gavin, help me up.”

“No.

“Geoff!! Gavin, ugh!”

“Stay down, Rye-bread. Take your lumps.”

“These aren’t my fucking lumps! This is just Gavin sitting on my chest!”

“Take your lumps!!”

“Ugh!!”  

* * *

_Well, I am Death, none can excel._  
_I open the door to Heaven or Hell._


End file.
